Deck the Halls in Strawberry Jelly

by Vikki Petraitis, Copyright 1995

We were getting ready for the St Maria Goretti Annual
Christmas Play and Carol Singing Evening and Ms Sposato was
looking surprisingly flustered. I thought that the choir was
doing pretty well except for when we occasionally forgot all
the words and Troy McKenzie fell off the back row of the
choir stand and landed on top of the piano.

"Troy McKenzie! Get off that piano and back to your place
- NOW!" roared Ms Sposato. Ms Sposato was definitely not
enjoying herself. I heard her telling Mr Box that she would
rather have her wisdom teeth pulled out than coach the St
Maria Goretti school choir and he just laughed and told her
that if she ever wanted to be promoted then she would have to
do these extra-curricular activities. I'm not sure what he
meant but Ms Sposato didn't look like she was enjoying her
time as choir director.

After lunch Ms Sposato sat us all down on the floor and
talked about the grade 5 Christmas play. It was going to be
about Mary and Joseph having Baby Jesus in a stable in
Bethlehem. I was so happy. Out of all the Bible stories, the
Christmas one was my favourite. I wondered to myself whether
I would get picked for an important role. I put up my hand to
volunteer. Ms Sposato looked around. She looked as though she
was having a hard time deciding who should be in the play and
as I looked around the room, I suddenly understood why.

Troy McKenzie was busy joining a long line of paper clips
together and then wrapping them around Snotty McFee's neck
Bronwyn Bunting was sitting right in front of Ms Sposato just
begging to be Mary and Jason McWhirter was emptying sand out
of his sneakers onto the carpet. Not exactly the cast of
Phantom of the Opera and perhaps that was why Ms Sposato had
what my mother would call a "frazzled" look about her.

Ms Sposato told us that she was an equal opportunity
casting director and that meant that Mary didn't necessarily
have to be a girl and Joseph didn't necessarily have to be a
boy and she renamed the three wise men into three wise people
and the little drummer boy became the little drummer person.
It was a bit confusing but I just hoped to get a good part.

"Um," said Ms Sposato looking around the class, "the role
of Joseph can go to...," and she looked straight at me,
"...you," she said.

"Me?" I asked.

"Yes, you."

It was final. I was Joseph.

My mind began ticking over straight away and I hardly
heard Ms Sposato pick Snotty McFee to be Mary, Jason
McWhirter to be Baby Jesus and Bronwyn Bunting to be lowing
cattle. I thought about what I could wear. If I brushed my
dog Precious often enough between now and the play, I could
pull the brown fur out of the brush and make it into a beard.
Mum had a great brown table cloth. I could wrap it around
myself and that could be my costume. I would finish it off
with grandpa's brown leather sandals.

Sharon Amott, the smartest kid in grade 5, was picked to
be a wise person along with Troy McKenzie and Mitch Mooney
who Ms Sposato said could be "almost wise people". Troy
immediately asked Ms Sposato if he could wear his karate
outfit for his costume. Ms Sposato didn't answer and instead
selected Emma Vigilante to be the little drummer person and
Seymour Pereira to be the inn keeper. I heard Seymour
grumbling and saying that he didn't want to be the one who
wouldn't let Mary and Joseph in and that if Ms Sposato made
him be the inn keeper that he would let them in even if he
had to give them his own bedroom.

Ms Sposato looked tired as she read us the Christmas story
in the Bible. We all listened and thought about what to do
with our parts. Joseph didn't seem to say very much, but I
could change all that. Ms Sposato put us into groups with
other characters and we had to talk to each other about the
parts. Snotty McFee, Jason McWhirter and I went together
because we were Jesus, Mary and Joseph. We all sat in the
reading corner and shared our ideas about what we wanted to
do.

"I have a blue sheet at home," Snotty told us.

"I could wear one of my baby sister's nappies," said
Jason.

I told them about my dog brush idea and grandpa's sandals.
They looked impressed - if not a little jealous. I was about
to tell them about mum's brown table cloth when my voice was
drowned out by Bronwyn Bunting mooing in the corridor. She
was obviously a method actor.

We practised every day for weeks and the halls echoed to
sounds of mooing and Snotty McFee going up to people begging
for a room because he was about to have a baby. Troy
McKenzie would backflip down the corridors saying that he
wanted the wise men to make a grand entrance. I practised as
hard as everybody else and every night I brushed my dog and
collected the fur.

On Tuesday, Ms Sposato took us over to the hall for a
dress rehearsal. The play was on Thursday night and Ms
Sposato told us it was time to hit the boards. She also told
us that tomorrow was the dress rehearsal and we would all
have to bring our costumes. I was so excited because I
finally had enough dog fur to make a terrific beard. We
stumbled through the play while Ms Sposato yelled out things
like "frankincense not Frankenstein!"

As soon as the bell rang, I ran straight home and went
into my room and got grandpa's old cigar box from under my
bed and I opened it slowly. I hadn't bothered to tell mum
what my beard plans were. I figured that I would just collect
the fur, paste it into a beard and surprise her with the
finished product. As I lifted the lid, the smell of my dog
floated out - sort of flea powder mixed with dirt. Oh how I
loved that dog. I gently lifted the fine brown fluffy fur out
and put it on my bedspread. I went in search of mum's
superglue. I had it all planned out. I would wipe superglue
all over my chin and then stick the dog's fur directly on. I
thought it would look much more realistic than the other
kid's fake beards. Mum would be so proud of me.

Inside the laundry cupboard, I found the superglue but it
wasn't ordinary superglue either. Mum had bought it at a fete
from an old man with a really long beard. Perhaps his was
stuck on too. I quivered with anticipation. On the side of
the tube was writing that said, "Macpherson's Superglue.
Stays stuck forever." It was just the thing I needed. My
beard wouldn't fall off in the middle of the play.

I got mum's brown table cloth and walked around to the old
people's home where my grandpa had lived since he turned
strange. The nice man at the front desk wearing the white
coat told me that grandpa was resting and I told him that it
was all right because I didn't especially want to visit him -
I just wanted to take his sandals. Grandpa was snoring when I
crept into his room and I slipped under the bed and found his
tattered old Roman sandals that would be just perfect for the
play. As I was about to creep back out again, I noticed
grandpa's bald head reflecting the sun from the window.
Wouldn't it be nice if I had any fur left over to share it
with my grandpa. I waved happily to the man at the front desk
as I left with grandpa's sandals tucked firmly under my arm.

When I got home, I was just about to glue my beard on when
I had a thought. If I used up all the fur for the dress
rehearsal, then I wouldn't have any left for the play so I
tucked the superglue and the fur snugly back into the cigar
box and slid it under my bed. It would just have to wait.

When I got to school the next morning, everybody was
changing into their costumes in the toilets. Bronwyn Bunting
emerged with great long cow eyelashes drawn on her face and
Snotty McFee was wearing his new mum's pink lipstick. I
looked around at all my friends in their costumes and I
quickly decided that mine was the best - even without the
beard.

As soon as the bell rang, Ms Sposato herded us all over to
the hall to practise, she said, until we got it right. Troy
McKenzie managed to stay on the choir stand for most of the
song practise but we were still a little shaky on the words.

"Away in a manger,
No creep for a bed.
The little Lord Jesus
Lay down on his head."

Ms Sposato sighed often and that made us feel proud to be
kids. If there was one thing that grade 5 had taught us and
that was to always keep your teacher on her toes. It was
almost a challenge. It had nothing to do with the fact that
we really liked her, but it was almost something that we
couldn't help. My mum always said that if people chose a
career that involved being with children all day then they
deserved all the premature grey hair they got.

We all took our places for the play.

"This donkey is killing me," said Snotty McFee as we
walked onto the stage from the side. He was wearing a blue
sheet and a long brown wig.

"We're nearly at Bethlehem," I replied in my best Joseph
voice. Snotty and I walked across the stage. Snotty was
holding my little brother's wooden horse which kept getting
in the way of the soccer ball that he had shoved up his sheet
to make him look like he was expecting.

"Look, there's an inn!" said Snotty theatrically pointing
across the stage to where Seymour Pereira stood holding a
sign that said "Pereira's Inn".

"Have you got any room in your inn?" I asked, "My wife is
about to vote labor."

"No, no!" Ms Sposato cried from her seat in the front row
where the audience would sit on the night. "My wife is in
labour - not voting labor!"

"Sorry," I muttered in her direction then turning once
again to Seymour, I said, "Have you got a room in your inn
because my wife is IN labour?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I have," said Seymour.

"No, you haven't!" cried Ms Sposato.

"Yes, I have," said Seymour stubbornly. "I just did a
quick calculation and if I put the Donegans in with the
Turcarellis then we can fit you in."

"SEYMOUR!" yelled Ms Sposato and then she quickly lowered
her voice to sound reasonable. "If you let them into the inn
then the baby can't be born in a stable and then the whole
story will be ruined."

Seymour thought for a moment before reluctantly turning to
Snotty and me and saying in a very sad voice that there was
no room at the inn but he did have a very comfortable spare
stable with all the modern conveniences - a water bed, a
colour television with a Nintendo and Super Mario Brothers.

Ms Sposato told Seymour in a completely exasperated voice
that she didn't think Mary and Joseph were in the slightest
bit interested in Super Mario Brothers. Snotty McFee and I
looked at each other and were about to disagree when we saw
Ms Sposato's face and thought the better of it.

The rest of the rehearsal went okay except for when Snotty
McFee told the three kings that gold, frankincense and myrrh
were all very nice but a month's worth of Nappy Wash and a
high chair might have been more sensible gifts. And Ms
Sposato had to get cross at Troy McKenzie because he
backflipped into the stable in his karate suit and told Mary
that he had travelled from afar, following a bright light in
the sky which he explained could have either been a star or
the police helicopter doing a night shift.

At the end of rehearsal, Ms Sposato sent us home to get
ready for the big day. All of the parents had been invited
and mum said that she might even get my grandpa out of the
home for a special treat and bring him along. I called in to
ask him on the way home.

"Hi Gramps," I said happily settling into the chair next
to his bed.

"There's a fish in my bed and a rabbit beside me," he
replied.

"Cool," I said, "Hey Gramps, want to come to my Christmas
play?"

"I can't find my sandals," moaned my grandpa. "I've been
looking for them all day and I can't find them. They're the
only foot furniture I've got.

"Don't worry Gramps," I said quickly. "I'm sure they'll
turn up after tomorrow." I gave his bald head a thoughtful
pat.

I stayed visiting until grandpa fell asleep in mid-
sentence whilst explaining his preferred method of artificial
denture care to his pet goldfish, Fluffy. I tiptoed out and I
told the man in the white coat that my mum would pick him up
tomorrow night at 7 o'clock. The man told me that it was good
that grandpa was getting out. He told me that all the other
old people were playing Bingo tonight at the Elderly Citizens
Club but grandpa had refused to go.

"So he'll be here on his own tonight?" I asked, trying to
keep the excitement out of my voice.

"Practically," the man said.

I would have enough fur left over for grandpa's head and
maybe some for a beard. He would be so pleased to have hair
again.

That night, mum and dad went next door for coffee but
really to find out how much the neighbour's new swimming pool cost and
I was home alone. I had it all planned. I would sneak down to
the old people's home with my dog fur and my superglue and
then I would come home and do my own beard. I grabbed my
equipment and snuck out the front door.

The man in the white coat was watching television with his
back to the door and I didn't bother disturbing him as I made
my way to the bedside of my sleeping grandpa. His lower lip
quivered as he forced air out through his mouth in loud
snores. I took the lid off the superglue and carefully wiped
it all over grandpa's head and chin. I stood back and
surveyed my glueing before I stuck the fur on.

I was just about to stick the fur onto my grandfather's head when I
remembered Ms Sposato telling us about a man called Elvis
Presley and how he had really bushy sideburns. I laughed and
put a few globs of extra glue on both sides of grandpa's
face. I opened the cigar box and pulled out piles and piles
of fluff. I had been fortunate to begin my collection when
Precious was moulting. I carefully stuck the fur to my
grandfather and even though he did end up looking a bit
strange, it was a definite improvement. He was covered in
thick brown hair.

Sitting on my bed at home, I repeated the procedure,
smearing my face with superglue and carefully sticking tufts
of flea powder smelling fur to my chin. I looked fantastic.

The next morning, mum had to go to work early and I was
left to get myself ready for school. The superglue sure was
super. Even when I had a shower, not one of the hairs came
off. I carefully folded the brown table cloth and packed
grandpa's sandals into my school bag. I was disappointed that
mum and dad had gone already because I wanted them to see how
wonderful I looked. They would have to wait until tonight
because all the kids were staying at school to set up for the
play.

"You can have my stable even though it doesn't have a
television or a Nintendo or a water bed," said Inn Keeper
Pereira.

I hesitated a moment before remembering my line. The day
had been quite stressful. Ms Sposato had been surprised by my
beard especially about the fact that it wouldn't come off.
The church hall was darkened and filled with everybody's
mothers and fathers. My mum and dad were sitting in the second
row from the back. Mum had caught me before the play had
started and told me that grandpa had run away from the home
and she hadn't been able to bring him. She looked so
distracted that she hadn't seemed to notice my beard.

"Thanks, we'll take the stable," I finally replied, "Do
you take Bankcard?"

"It's on the house," said the inn keeper.

Snotty and I walked over to the side of the stage that was
scattered with hay with a manger sitting in the middle.

"Oh, oh, I think I'm going to have my baby," wailed Snotty
with his long brown wig falling in his face. The synthetic
hair started to tickle his nose and he tried to brush it away
with one hand while trying to hold the soccer ball in place
with the other. It was no use. I knew a sneeze was coming. I
had to stand between Snotty McFee and the audience while he
took the soccer ball out from under his sheet and reached
into the manger to grab Bronwyn Bunting's Baby Alive which we
had to use at the last minute because Jason McWhirter got
stage fright.

"Oooooooooh, isn't he lovely," cooed Snotty McFee holding
the baby out in front of him for all the audience to see
while trying desperately not to sneeze. "I think I'll call
him um, ah... ah... AH CHOOOOOOOOOOO!" Snotty McFee sent a
tremendous spray across the stage - all over Baby Jesus, the
hay, the manger and me. But being a true performer, Snotty
McFee quickly said, "On the other hand, Ahchoo is not a good
name. I think I'll call him Jesus."

I could see Ms Sposato in the front row breathing a sigh
of relief as Snotty went on with the show.

"Yes, Jesus McFee is a terrific name!" said Snotty holding
the Baby Alive beaming down on it as if it was a real baby.
"And you're going to have a little brother or sister soon,"
said Snotty looking in the direction of his new mum,
Madelaine who blushed.

We finished the play and the whole grade filed onto the
choir stand and Ms Sposato took her place in front of us. She
lifted her arms about to signal us to start when, instead of
a nice singing sound, a thin wail filled the hall. We peered
into the blackness just in time to see a hairy, barefooted
creature being dragged out by people in white coats
screaming, "My sandals, my sandals..."

The temporary disruption over, Ms Sposato dropped her arms
and we began to sing...